


it would be just to sleep at night

by ThatWeirdGuyInTheBushes



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dead TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Grief/Mourning, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Jordan Maron, Recovery, Suicidal Thoughts, Toby Smith | Tubbo Needs a Hug, Traumatized Toby Smith | Tubbo, and he gets one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-23 00:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30047019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatWeirdGuyInTheBushes/pseuds/ThatWeirdGuyInTheBushes
Summary: “I’m only here for a day,” Tubbo had said that first night. “Just want to talk.”The dullness in Tubbo’s eyes, the scars, they were scary. Jordan was scared. He doesn’t know this Tubbo, not really. Jordan knew a fifteen-year-old boy with dreams of a sky island and too much heart for his own good. But that doesn’t change a thing.He tells Tubbo that he loves having him over, loves catching up, and that Kara is going to be there in a few days. He sends a frantic message to Kara demanding she come over. Tubbo agrees to stay.-In which Tubbo arrives on Jordan's doorstep, and there is so much work to do.
Relationships: Jordan Maron & Toby Smith | Tubbo
Comments: 20
Kudos: 127





	it would be just to sleep at night

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Class of 2013 by Mitski

A week after he arrives at Jordan’s doorstep, shaky and wrapped in ill-fitting clothes, Tubbo talks about his bee sanctuary. The words are careful, like steps in a minefield, but it’s the first time he’s said anything about what happened to him in all those years that Jordan was gone.

They’re sitting at the table, eating breakfast. Jordan doesn’t dare interrupt. Tubbo picks at a scab on his lip and Jordan has to resist the urge to take his hand away. If Tubbo were younger, if things were simpler, he could gently bat it off and say _“Tubbo, stop picking or it’s going to scar!”_

Tubbo is older than he used to be. Things are too complicated for words. Tubbo flinches when Jordan steps too loud, even a gentle push on the wrist wouldn’t go well. The scarring comment would be morbid.

“I built it with Ranboo. Dream said it looked nice, but you could never… I- never mind. Sorry. Rambling.”

Jordan’s heart curls up in his chest. It doesn’t feel right for Tubbo to say things like that. He wants to ask about what happened to him but some words are too heavy to say. “It’s fine,” he gets out instead. “I always like talking to you, kid.”

Tubbo smiles, wearily, and it really puts into perspective how much of a kid he isn’t anymore, but Jordan can always pretend.

“I’m only here for a day,” Tubbo had said that first night. “Just want to talk.”

The dullness in Tubbo’s eyes, the scars, they were scary. Jordan was scared. He doesn’t know this Tubbo, not really. Jordan knew a fifteen-year-old boy with dreams of a sky island and too much heart for his own good. But that doesn’t change a thing.

He tells Tubbo that he loves having him over, loves catching up, and that Kara is going to be there in a few days. He sends a frantic message to Kara demanding she come over. Tubbo agrees to stay.

Tubbo sits on the couch, swimming in one of Jordan’s hoodies. “I really should be going soon. I have things to do.”

Jordan listens to the demands of the hot dread in his stomach and pretends to get a message from Scot about visiting tomorrow. Tubbo agrees to stay.

The neighbours set off fireworks that night, and Jordan finds Tubbo sitting up in his bed, hunched against the wall, hands covering his ears. He flinches when Jordan turns on the light.

“Weakness potion,” Tubbo says before Jordan can ask. “Please, Captain, please I-”

He’s cut off by another firework. The kid looks like he might vomit. Jordan runs into the bathroom, grabs a weakness potion, and passes it on. Tubbo is hardly finished with the bottle when he falls asleep.

Jordan goes into his own room, pulling out his communicator. He stays up late messaging Shelby, frantically attempting to figure out how to help his kid.

_Not your kid,_ Jordan reminds himself sternly. _He has a dad. You’re just looking out for him._

He puts two and two together quickly enough. The fireworks. The burns. They were respawning scars as well; smoother, less disjointed, more sunk into the skin. Kids shouldn’t lose lives, especially that violently. What kind of server did Tubbo go to? He knew the kid came from 2b2t, but he always said he didn’t want to go back to an anarchy server. He thought the Dream SMP would have _rules._

He makes coffee because sometime in those years they didn’t see each other, Tubbo started drinking coffee. He makes eggs. The kid needs to eat more.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks when Tubbo sits down.

Tubbo’s face is uncertain. “Should I?”

“Do you think it would make you feel better? If so, then yes. If not, you’re allowed to wait. It’s up to you.”

Tubbo doesn’t answer, scratching at the back of his hand. “It was fireworks.” Tubbo takes in a deep breath.

“You don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to.”

Tubbo stops scratching and grabs onto his own hand instead, like a poor imitation of holding. “It was an execution, actually. For treason.”

Their food is probably cold by now. “You’re seventeen.”

Tubbo’s voice is venomous. “When has that ever mattered?” His teeth click shut, and there’s a long silence. “Sorry.”

Jordan winces and tries to eat a bite of eggs. It tastes like dirt. “No need to apologize, kid.”

-

"Tommy's dead," Tubbo says. Jordan freezes, his hands buried in the dirt, the flower seeds clenched between his fingers.

"I'm sorry," Jordan says, and it sounds so hollow but he can't think of anything else. Tommy? The kid who followed Tubbo around like an excited puppy, who dragged him across servers in the first place? _That_ Tommy? Just gone? It feels wrong in a way Jordan can hardly fathom. "I'm- I'm sorry, Tubbo."

Tubbo turns away from him, somehow still planting. "It's like- I... I didn't even get his discs out of it." Tubbo laughs. Jordan winces. "Like, I couldn't even get the one thing. They’re still in his Ender Chest."

"I'm sorry," Jordan says again. "I know you- is that why you came?"

Tubbo's hands stop moving. There's a long pause. "Yeah. I guess. I guess that's part of it."

“Do you want a hug?” 

Tubbo hesitates for a long time, his hands unsteady, his breathing laboured, and then shakes his head. “No. I’m alright. Thank you, though.”

Jordan isn’t a violent man. He prides himself on being the opposite. But he wants to kill whoever made Tubbo feel like this. “If I can ask, how-?”

Tubbo tenses. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.”

Tubbo draws a small circle in the dirt with his finger. “I should go soon.”

The lie comes easier than ever. “Shelby is coming over in a week. Stay for that, at least.”

Tubbo finally looks up at him, and Jordan thinks he knows that there aren’t any plans already made with Shelby. Tubbo swallows hard. “Okay,” Tubbo whispers. “Yeah- yeah I miss Shelby. For her.”

-

Shelby hugs Tubbo before Jordan can tell her not to. Tubbo goes stiff, and Shelby must feel it, but she doesn't let go. After a long moment, Tubbo brings his arms up and hugs her back.

"When was the last time you got a hug, kiddo?" Shelby laughs, ruffling Tubbo's hair. Tubbo gives her a tiny smile and doesn't answer. Jordan steps forward to give a hug to Shelby as well, and when he does, Shelby leans in right next to his ear. "Hug him, dumbass," she hisses, and he nods.

Shelby keeps up the physical contact all night. Her hand on Tubbo's shoulder, sitting next to him on the couch as they talk and drink coffee.

She overloads hers with sugar and milk, just as Jordan does. "I don't know how you can stand to drink your’s black, Tubbo!"

Tubbo smile is a bit more genuine than it has been, these last few weeks. "Didn't have many options, with tariffs and the war. Supplies were a nightmare.”

Jordan and Shelby share a concerned look and do not comment on it, because some things are not ready to be spoken of yet. _He's not okay,_ Jordan had said in his message to Shelby on the first day Tubbo arrived. _I don't know what happened but he needs my help._

Jordan wonders, for the first time, why Tubbo came to _him_.

Tubbo gives Shelby his bed in the guest room, opting to sleep on the couch. Jordan sits on the loveseat, reading. Tubbo stares at the ceiling.

"We started a revolution," Tubbo says. It all comes out in one breath, the words lined with leaden guilt like a sinner come to confession. Jordan does not dare interrupt. "Dream said we couldn't, but Wilbur wanted to, so we did. It was called L'Manberg, and we fought for it, and we won, kind of, and we started a nation."

Jordan finally stops holding his breath. "Is that what you meant by the war?"

"Well, that was the-"

"Was there _more than one?"_

Tubbo laughs, genuine and bright, and Jordan's chest gets warm. "Yeah- we were... we weren't very smart."

"Goodnight, Tubbo."

"Goodnight, Captain."

“Can I sew up the holes in your coat yet?”

“No.”

When Jordan comes downstairs in the morning, he finds Tubbo still sleeping, still wrapped up in that too-big blue coat, a book Jordan has not seen before on the coffee table.

He stares at it for a moment, trying to hold back his curiosity, but it gets the better of him, and he flips it open, glancing at the first page.

  * ~~_Fix bench._~~


  * ~~Visit Dream.~~


  * ~~Give Michael compass.~~


  * ~~Make Jack president.~~


  * Visit Captain.


  * Business Bay (find old bench).



He closes the book. It’s not his right to pry, no matter how worried he may be. Tubbo will tell him eventually.

He just has to be there. He just has to wait.

**Author's Note:**

> hey, i update every sunday, so maybe consider subscribing! leave a comment if you enjoyed :)


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